Chapter 31
Vivian smirked at the masked woman in front of her, confidence radiating from every pore.
Right before this moment, she’d sent a message:
Elena, even if you won’t come to me, I’ll tell you anyway–Amelia’s been signed to Cavendish Entertainment for over a year. She and Louie are super tight.
You miscarried for Louie and still haven’t gotten the girlfriend upgrade. That’s gotta hurt. Join my team–I’ll keep your abortion secret. With the buzz we’re generating, I can make Louie see how amazing you are while exposing Amelia as a talentless gold–digger who only survives by leeching off men.
This isn’t a threat, Elena. This is me extending an olive branch.
Carrot and stick–Vivian was positive this woman couldn’t resist!
Amelia studied Vivian’s expectant face. Threats and bribes–classic manipulation playbook.
Taking the microphone, Amelia bowed to the audience first, then faced the three judges.
Charlie Paige, 32, chart–topping pop balladeer whose love songs dominated radio for the past decade.
Mars Santiago, 28, indie rock sensation with his own band, known for his experimental sound.
Vivian Hope, 25, Instagram–famous florist, tragic beauty, and ‘Voice of Heaven’s‘ designated drama magnet.
All three had invited her to join their teams. Amelia spoke sincerely: “Thank you all for believing in me.”
“And now,” she paused deliberately, “considering my artistic style and what I want to achieve on this platform, I’m choosing…”
The judges sat in a curved formation–Vivian dead center, the men flanking her sides.
Amelia walked straight forward. Vivian practically glowed with satisfaction, rising from her chair like she’d already won. But at the last second, Amelia pivoted toward Mars.
“Mars, would you have me on your team?” Amelia asked politely, extending her hand.
Mars glanced at Vivian, whose smile had frozen mid–expression, then grinned like he was enjoying a private joke.
“Hell yeah.” He stood and clasped her hand firmly.
The cameras zoomed in on their handshake while catching Vivian’s deer–in–headlights expression in the background.
Nathan watched from the audience, his jaw tightening. The masked woman had just played Vivian hard. Her trajectory had clearly pointed toward Vivian’s chair, but she’d executed a last–minute swerve to Mars.
What was her game?
The ‘Voice of Heaven‘ selection process was pure chaos. The live audience was eating it up–cheering, gasping, and commentary flying nonstop.
After joining Mars’s team, Amelia settled into the contestant section behind his judge chair.
Vivian kept shooting her death glares, but Amelia pretended not to notice.
The show dragged on for hours with commercial breaks serving as the only respite for exhausted performers.
During one ad break, Amelia headed for the bathroom, but Vivian ambushed her in the hallway.
“Did you not see my text?” Vivian yanked Amelia into a corner, done with subtlety.
Mr. Harrison, Wake Up Your Wife’s Gone
13.69
Chapter 31
Amelia looked at her coolly. “I saw it.”
Vivian’s face darkened as she grabbed Amelia’s shirt. “Then what the fuck was that back there? You trying to embarrass me?”
Amelia laughed and pried Vivian’s fingers off her clothing. “I made the smart choice. Mars is a better fit musically and professionally. He’ll help me go further on this show.”
Vivian let out a harsh laugh.
“Oh, that’s rich. You really don’t get it, do you?”
“You know why you’ll always lose to Amelia?” Vivian’s voice dripped with contempt. “You’re focused on all the wrong shit.”
“This game is about marketing, sweetheart.”
“You think you’re here to showcase your precious artistry?”
“Cavendish invested in you for one reason–ROI. Commercial appeal. Cold hard cash. Do you understand what that means?”
Vivian’s voice dropped to a venomous whisper, each word sharp as a blade.
“Musical compatibility? Professional development?” She scoffed. “God, you’re so fucking naive, Elena.”
Amelia regarded her with calm interest.
“What about you?” she replied smoothly. “You’ve got six months left to live. Why waste time on this bullshit? Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere peaceful, enjoying whatever time you have left?”
Something flickered behind Vivian’s eyes.
Obviously she couldn’t spill the truth about faking her diagnosis.
Vivian pivoted quickly: “You can still change teams. Come with me, or we can work out something else.”
She stepped closer, invading Amelia’s personal space. “Think about it. We’re natural allies here–we have the same enemy.”
With that parting shot, Vivian strutted away, leaving Amelia alone in the hallway.
Amelia watched her go, genuinely puzzled.
What was Vivian’s endgame here?
She already had Nathan wrapped around her finger. Why all this extra drama?
Was this really just about destroying her? And if so… why?
The day stretched endlessly as filming continued from morning into evening.
By the time ‘Voice of Heaven‘ wrapped, everyone–cast, crew, and audience was running on fumes.
Darkness had fallen when Amelia stumbled toward the van, barely staying upright. Louie supported her weight, looking grim.
Amelia knew he disapproved of her pushing herself this hard, but she couldn’t stop. The urgency clawed at her–she needed to get stronger, to reclaim control of her life.
But as they rounded the corner, she spotted a familiar figure by their van.
Nathan
Amelia shot Louie a questioning look. He shrugged, equally confused,
Got a minute? Nathan’s voice cut through the evening air.
Chapter 31
Louie opened his mouth to object, but Amelia squeezed his arm and straightened up, gesturing for Nathan to follow her toward a cluster of trees.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Harrison?” Amelia asked.
Her voice hit Nathan like déjà vu. He studied the woman in front of him.
Even with the long coat covering her performance outfit, her extreme thinness was obvious. None of the women in his social circle were this fragile–looking.
Meeting her questioning gaze through the mask, Nathan cut to the chase: “Why did you screw with Vivian during team selection?”
Amelia’s laugh was light, almost musical.
“Screw with her? I didn’t do anything like that.”
Nathan’s expression hardened. “Don’t bullshit me. Your body language gave you away completely.”
Amelia’s lips pressed together as she turned her face away.
Same old Nathan. Just like years ago.
When her stepfather had beaten her bloody and Nathan asked what happened, when she’d lied and said she was fine, he’d used almost identical words:
“Amelia, look at yourself. Stop pretending–I can see right through you.”
But back then, he’d been on her side.
Now he stood firmly in her enemy’s camp.
(15)
